Mother of My Children
by The Lord Writer
Summary: What if Jeanne and France's relationship was much more than everyone knew it was? What if they had children? What happened to France and their kids after Jeanne's death? What about American Colonisation. This story tells all. I'm sorry. M for future chapters. Lemons. Death (obviously) Eventual FranChelles USUK, OC/Seborga, NiChu, RusBel, AusHun, PruCan AU! I've done my research!
1. Chapter 1

**I apologize in advance for all these feels! I really am sorry! This plot was stuck in my head for the longest time and I just had to type it out!**

**There are also a few (cough*a lot*cough) Les Miserables references, but nothing truly spoiling to the plot line.**

**Warning: Character death(s) and intense feels that may leave you crying and reviewing with death threats.**

**This will eventually be Ribbon Pair (France X Seychelles) I quite like them together, but Jeanne and France will always be my OTP!**

**Disclaimer: I claim no right to France, Jeanne d'Arc, or anything else associated with The Beautiful World of the manga and anime known as Hetalia: Axis Powers and World Series, I only own France and Jeanne's adorable little girl and cute little boy. I also own this depressing plot line, even though I wish I didn't.**

**Special thanks to my awesome twin sister, Emma, for helping me with The Fluff. I suck at The Fluff. The Fluff is her department. I'm better with other things...as you'll eventually see in the upcoming chapters.**

**Words: 2,106**

* * *

"We need to think of a new strategy, or we are going to lose this war." Charles VII spoke, staring at all his soldiers, France sitting next to him.

They have tried everything, but nothing seemed to work for the war.

Just then, the doors burst open and a woman ran forth. France's eyes widened upon looking at her.

She had to be one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. She had flowing blonde curls. She was petite, but France could see the outline of muscles in her clothed arms.

"Who are you!?" Charles VII shouted as the girl looked up, her piercing dark blue eyes captivating the European Nation.

"My name is Jeanne d' Arc and God has instructed me to make you King and to lead your army into battle."

"A woman!? Lead an army! Well that is preposterous!" He shouted.

But France believed her. She held an air to her that said that she could lead them to victory. That she was a miracle girl. That she could win this war for them.

"It is not! God has come to me in visions and told me that it was my duty to protect France!" She shouted, holding her stance.

"I believe that she could help us." France found himself speaking. "In years past, there have been instances where women have succeeded where men could not. Take the Spartan women for instance. They were trained alongside men and held an authority over them as well. I believe that she should be given the chance to prove herself. What else do we have to lose?" France spoke, his eyes held on Jeanne as he spoke. He had strong faith that she was the key.

He saw her give him a small smile. That was when France knew that he had fallen in love with Jeanne d' Arc.

* * *

"Hey, Francis" Came the voice of Jarvet, one of France's many soldiers, nudging the nation. "Looks like you have a secret admirer." He said, motioning his head towards Jeanne.

France turned his head to look at her, briefly catching her eye before she turned her head, resuming a conversation she had with the King's mother-in-law.** ***

They had just won the battle for Orleans.

France hid a smile on his face, but not before his men saw it.

He heard the snickers and flashed them a glare. "What?" He asked.

"Admit it, Francis, you like her." Jarvet spoke, a smirk on his face that didn't say he liked her, but something much more than that.

"I don't. Besides, even if I did, you know we could never work out..." He said, going off as his gaze turned back to the beautiful girl.

"Speaking of that, are you going to tell her. You know, about you?" He asked. All of the soldiers had known since they saw his arm be slashed by a sword, only to stare in amazement as he healed before their eyes. It was then that he had to explain what he truly was.

France sighed, "I will, but only when she asks me. I wish not to just come out of the blue and tell her." He said, drifting off.

* * *

"What are you guys up to?" France asked, looking at the soldiers. It had been about a month since he first caught Jeanne staring at him. There had been a few more instances since then. Most of which, was when Jeanne caught him staring.

"Nothing, what makes you think we're up to something?" Jarvet asked in an innocent tone.

France scrutinized him, he knew something was up.

"Well, we must be going." They said before they dashed off to God knows where.

France shrugged before turning around, only to collide with a certain female soldier.

They both fell to the floor, landing on their butts.

France was quick to get up, extending his hand to the young girl.

She was about to speak that she was not some damsel in distress, but upon seeing who the hand belonged to, she swallowed her words and reached up to grasp his hand, a spark of electricity ignited at the simple touch. Their eyes lingered on each other. They both had felt it.

Once Jeanne was back on her feet, Francis cleared his throat before speaking, "Sorry about that, Jeanne." he spoke as she blushed. He had never seen her blush. It was beautiful to see her cheeks flood with crimson and she swallowed hard before speaking.

"Non, it was my fault, I should have been paying attention to where I was going." She replied, looking up at the nation, becoming lost in his deep blue eyes.

"At least let me make it up to you." France spoke. This could be the perfect excuse to spend some time with the girl that he had somehow fallen for. "How about I take you out to dinner?" he asked.

"Oh no, you don't have to." Jeanne replied, but internally she wanted to accept his offer. She was sure her heart had skipped a beat upon his asking.

"I insist, Mademoiselle d' Arc." he said, flashing her his thousand watt smile.

"Well if you insist, then I suppose I have no choice but to accept." She said with a smile.

"Bonne." Francis said with a smile that made Jeanne's heart flutter.

* * *

After they had eaten, France insisted upon taking a walk, they had decided to sit on a park bench.

Jeanne stared at him. He was so different. So different from the other soldiers. It was as if he was in a class all his own.

"Um, Francis, can I ask you something?" She spoke, looking at the European Nation with bright, inquisitive eyes.

"Of course, Jeanne." He replied. He had a feeling that he knew what she was about to inquire.

"What are you? Exactly? Everyone treats you like you are above them. Even the King treats you as a superior. You look so young, but you eyes say that you have lived thousands of years and when you speak, you speak with an air of an elder. You speak with words of wisdom that leave people baffled with your philosophy. You speak of old war tactics as if you had lived through them. So I ask, what are you exactly?" Jeanne spoke, staring intently at the nation.

France stared back into the dark indigo eyes that he had fallen in love with. He sighed; he couldn't deny her the information that she so desperately wanted. He had fallen under her trance. Anything she wished, he would bring to her on a silver platter.

"I knew that you would ask the question at one point in time." France said as Jeanne cocked her head to the side. "The truth?" he spoke, turning the words over in his head as they rolled out of his mouth.

"Oui, the truth." She responded.

"The truth is a difficult thing to explain." France started, "And it has always been for people like us. Like me." he clarified.

"For people like you?" She repeated but in a questioning tone.

"Oui. You are correct when you say that I act as if I've been alive for thousands of years, because I have been. I've lived in the times of The Roman Empire, in the times of old. I am the personification of this country." France said.

"Of France?" She asked, an eyebrow rose in suspicion. Was he mocking her?

"Yes, and immortal at that." France said as he unhooked the small knife he carried with him. "Look." He said, as he made a small slash on his hand. A large intake of air was heard from the girl as she automatically made to apply pressure to the wound.

"No, just watch." France said, softly grabbing her hand. Jeanne watched his hand; her mouth dropping as the skin knitted itself together and the blood began to disappear.

She brought the now healed hand up to her face and placed a kiss where the cut had been.

"God had told me that I would meet someone like you. Someone who held the strength of France. I thought it to be a dedicated soldier, but now I realize it is you." Jeanne said, still holding France's hand.

A strand of hair fell forward and France brushed it behind her ear with his free hand. His hand resting on her cheek a moment longer than need be.

"By him, I was not only ordered to protect France. But to also love all of it. I didn't know what that had meant until know." She spoke, her hands traveling up to his cheeks. "You are France, and I have vowed to love and protect all of you." She spoke and then added a light chuckle, "Never have I before spoken of such feelings akin to love except with family." She whispered the last part.

France couldn't help the small smile that had begun to grace his lips. Before he knew it, he had leant forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. He was the country of love, and he knew the meaning of the words that Jeanne had spoken. And he knew that he felt the same way.

"Mon amour," he spoke as he pulled away, looking into Jeanne's eyes as she blushed. "When I first laid my eyes upon you, I knew you to be different from the rest. You are a miracle girl. You touched my heart in a way that no one has ever before. As much as I return your feelings of love, the relationship we would share would not be able to work. Our mortality differences..." He said as he ran his hands through her blonde locks. "I would fear losing you to the sands of time or to this very war. You would age, and I will forever remain as I am."

Jeanne wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing them together so their foreheads touched, their hot breaths merging together. "I care not about those things. If two people love each other, whether they are mortal or immortal, should not matter. I only wish to be with you." She spoke as she brought their lips together.

The kiss was sweet and passionate, but only lasted a few moments before France pulled away and turned his head slightly. Jeanne could see the hint of both sadness and longing in his gaze.

"Jeanne..." He sighed, returning his attention back to the miracle girl.

"Don't." She replied, placing her lips back on his. This time, France's lips moved with hers. For once, he had found someone whom loved it back.

Once they pulled away, in need for air, France spoke, "Je t'aime."

Jeanne smiled "Je t'aime, trop." She whispered before she reconnected their lips.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked it!**

***Charles VII's Mother-In-Law helped a lot with gathering supplies and Jeanne depended on it to get everything she needed like a horse, sword, and battle armour.**

**So please review, reblog, like, favourite, follow or whatever it is you guys do. **

**Tumblr: hetaliagirl104**

**FF: Lady Prussia of Awesomeness **

**dA: buddygirl1004**

**Facebook: Morge Lazy Beilschmidt-Vargas (please PM me saying you're going to add me, okay?)**

**Well, that's it!**

**So please tell me what you thought! I've been working on this for weeks!**

~Lady Prussia of Awesomeness


	2. Surprise

**HOWDY Y'ALL! I AM SOOOOOO SOOOOOO SOOOO SORRY FOR THE HUGE DELAY! You don't know how much I hate myself for making you guys wait! But never fear! I'm back for another chapter!**

**so how about a quick refresher so you know what happened?**

_"By him, I was not only ordered to protect France. But to also love all of it. I didn't know what that had meant until now." She spoke, her hands traveling up to his cheeks. "You are France, and I have vowed to love and protect all of you." She spoke and then added a light chuckle, "Never have I before spoken of such feelings akin to love except with family." She whispered the last part._

_France couldn't help the small smile that had begun to grace his lips. Before he knew it, he had leant forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. He was the country of love, and he knew the meaning of the words that Jeanne had spoken. And he knew that he felt the same way._

_"Mon amour," he spoke as he pulled away, looking into Jeanne's eyes as she blushed. "When I first laid my eyes upon you, I knew you to be different from the rest. You are a miracle girl. You touched my heart in a way that no one has ever before. As much as I return your feelings of love, the relationship we would share would not be able to work. Our mortality differences..." He said as he ran his hands through her blonde locks. "I would fear losing you to the sands of time or to this very war. You would age, and I will forever remain as I am."_

_Jeanne wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing them together so their foreheads touched, their hot breaths merging together. "I care not about those things. If two people love each other, whether they are mortal or immortal, should not matter. I only wish to be with you." She spoke as she brought their lips together._

_The kiss was sweet and passionate, but only lasted a few moments before France pulled away and turned his head slightly. Jeanne could see the hint of both sadness and longing in his gaze._

_"Jeanne..." He sighed, returning his attention back to the miracle girl._

_"Don't." She replied, placing her lips back on his. This time, France's lips moved with hers. For once, he had found someone whom loved it back._

_Once they pulled away, in need for air, France spoke, "Je t'aime."_

_Jeanne smiled "Je t'aime, trop." She whispered before she reconnected their lips._

**D'aww aren't they a bunch of cutie patooties? Now, let's get going, eh?**

**NOTE: THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER (pretty sure it's crappy. I haven't done straight porn in a while...)**

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of these characters except for their two kids.**

**Words: 2,076**

* * *

"I told you I would love all of you." Jeanne said as she and Francis lied on their bed.

France twirled a strand of her blonde locks between his fingers.

Jeanne looked up at him with bright, indigo eyes.

Despite their mortality differences, they had gotten married. Of course, no one knew. They couldn't. Especially the other nations who wish to bring harm to France.

And tonight was their honeymoon.

France smiled as he hovered above her, kissing her softly on the lips. She arched her back into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"We don't have to do this, mon amour." France reminded his wife.

Jeanne was so innocent. So beautiful. He didn't want to ruin her.

"I'm your wife. You are my husband. I want this more than anything." Said the young girl.

"If you're sure..." France said as the girl nodded her head.

"Okay, I'll be gentle, amour." France told her in a whisper, as he slowly undid the lace support on her back. Slowly he slid it down her arms and removed the fabric fully.

Once her chest was exposed, France looked upon it, basking in the small plumpness of her breasts.

Jeanne wrapped her arms over herself, she didn't know why though.

France smiled, "Relax, amour." he said, slowly peeling her arms away from her breasts. "You are beautiful." he sighed, placing his hands on her cheeks, leaning down to kiss her again.

Jeanne smiled as she responded to the kiss. She felt his hands slide down her neck, each one heading towards a breast.

Before Jeanne could get a word out, France gripped them both, causing Jeanne to moan and arch her back into him.

France rolled the nipples between his fingers, causing Jeanne to moan out. "F-Francis." she spoke, gripping the sheets tightly.

France trailed kisses from her jawline, down her neck, to her collarbone, then finally coming to rest at a little pink bud.

He took it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it, biting it gently, loving the noises that escaped from his wife's mouth.

He moved to the other one as his hands slid down, slowly sliding down the long, white, skirt she wore. Jeanne helped him by kicking out of them.

Her hands were at his shirt, unbuttoning his tunic.

France's hand traveled down to her underwear, rubbing her womanhood, which already had become wet.

She gasped loudly as she finished unbuttoning the shirt.

"T-that feels s-so good." Jeanne whined, rutting her hips against his fingers.

France swiftly removed his pants and undergarments. Jeanne propped herself onto her elbows and gawked at her husbands length.

"I-I don't think that's going to fit, Francis." She said as he lined himself up with her.

"Shhh..." France said, kissing her. "It is going to hurt, but it'll go away. And you're going to bleed, amour. But it's okay." France said. Jeanne closed her eyes and nodded.

"If you want me to stop, I will. Okay, mon amour?"

Jeanne nodded her head, taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly.

"Okay." France said, planting another kiss on her lips, sliding his head inside the tight chamber.

Jeanne gasped below him, arching her back, "Ah! F-Francis." She moaned beneath the French nation.

France slid in a few more inches before being stopped by her wall.

"I have to break it, okay." He whispered into her ear. He felt her nod her head. He covered her mouth with his as he thrusted into her.

She screamed loudly into his mouth as France held her close. He could feel salty tears sliding past his cheek.

"It's okay. It's okay. It'll be over soon, amour." Francis whispered as he stilled himself. She was so tight, but he had to refrain. She was so innocent, so pure.

"M-move. Please." Jeanne whispered after a few minutes.

France granted her wish and soon began to slowly thrust in and out of Jeanne. He didn't want to hurt her.

"Ah. Please! Faster!" She gasped inbetween pants. France sped up a bit as Jeanne screamed, her walls tightening around him as she came, followed quickly by Francis.

France pulled out slowly and rolled next to his wife and pulled her close to him.

"That was amazing, Francis." Jeanne said as she began to drift off to sleep. "Love you." He heard her whisper as sleep took her.

France smiled before whispering his reply and following asleep as well.

* * *

"Are you okay, Jeanne?" France asked as he once again woke up to the sounds of his wife disposing of her evening meal. It had been two months since they had been married.

"Oui, I'm fine, Francis." She replied as she walked back into the room. France wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his chest, looking down into the clear blue eyes that he fell in love with.

Jeanne looked up into his eyes and France could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"Jeanne?" He asked with concern as the girl broke down crying.

"Jeanne, quel est le problème?" He asked, concern in his eyes. He lifted her head up and looked into her bloodshot blue eyes. The mere sight of her in this state was enough to make his heart break in two.

"H-how long have we been married?" She asked in a quiet voice.

France was perplexed at the question, but answered nonetheless, "Almost two months. Why?"

"Please don't be mad." She whispered, holding him tighter. She burrowed her head into his strong chest, as her tears began to dry from the fabric of his shirt.

"Why would I be mad?" He asked her. She was starting to scare him. He had never seen Jeanne cry. And he knew it would be bad if it had lead her to break down her tough girl exterior.

"I'm late." She whispered. She looked up in France's eyes. One eyebrow was raised as he didn't exactly know what she was talking about.

"I missed my period, Francis. I-I-I think I'm p-p-pregnant." She clarified, as she broke down crying again.

France's blue eyes grew wide upon hearing those words come out of her mouth.

France wrapped his arms around her tighter,

"Shh...It's okay, amour. I'm not angry, mon amour. Everything is going to be alright, Jeanne." He didn't know exactly how he should feel.

One side of him was excited at the thought of becoming a father, but the other side was terrified for more than one reason.

The child could be mortal, which would ultimately result in two people he would lose to the sands of time.

And if the child were to have children of their own, that would be more people he would have to lose.

But he would always be surrounded by his family. And that was something that could be a good thing...

If the child were to be a personification, then people would, in time, try to invade the child's land, even if it was in France itself.

There were so many other variables that could have so many different outcomes that France didn't even want to think of them. Jeanne's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"I-if you w-want, w-we can abo-" he didn't let her finish that sentence. Instead, he cut her off with his lips. She paused for a second before she responded to the kiss.

Jeanne stood on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Francis picked her up, Jeanne wrapping her legs around his.

Her hands wrung them selves in his hair as France held her back and cradled her neck.

When they pulled away, France spoke, "I don't. A child is a child." He said, as he gently placed her on the floor.

Jeanne looked up at him with a smile. She wanted the child. She wanted to be a mother. But she wouldn't know about Francis.

As soon as the thought of being a mother crossed her mind, Jeanne had no fear. She was always hesitant when she was younger of the prospect of becoming a mother. But as long as she was with Francis, she was happy.

She didn't know how it was possible to love something that was so small. It was possible that she may not even be with child, but the mere thought that she was, was enough to make her smile with glee.

France placed his hands on Jeanne's flat stomach. "I've always wanted to be a father." he continued as he kneeled down in front of Jeanne as he slowly lifted up her shirt, placing a hand on her stomach.

France looked up and smiled, he turned his attention back to her stomach and smiled. He placed a gentle kiss on the skin and whispered, "Je t'aime, mon enfant."

He stood up and looked at Jeanne, "et Je t'aime, mon amour."

Jeanne smiled as she placed a gentle kiss on her husband's lips.

* * *

**D'awwww wasn't that fucking adorable!? Probably not.**

**Anyways, I really love reviews, so if you could give me some that would be awesome and make the updates come along more quickly!**

**Keep on Keeping on!**

**~The Lord Writer**


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